


Always and Forever

by badskippy



Series: Bagginshield One-Offs [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Love, M/M, No one dies!, One Shot Collection, One True Pairing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnation, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 02:11:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3157082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badskippy/pseuds/badskippy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreams are funny things ... things that could be, things that are ... and sometimes, they are things that have already come to pass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always and Forever

* * *

 

 

            He sat up, a gasp upon his lips. His breathing was heavy and he was unaware that he had clutched his left chest where a wound was thought to be, but wasn’t. As his eyes adjusted in the gray-shadowed room, he slowly swung his legs off the bed to sit on the side.

            On instinct, he reached for the pack of cigarettes that were, now, long gone; as usual in the fog of waking, he’d forgotten he’d kicked the habit months ago. Instead, his right hand continued on and took hold of the water pitcher on the bedside table, pouring himself a glass, which he brought to his lips and drank his fill. His left he used to scrub his face; his eyes, then cheeks, down to his rough, stubbled jaw, to finally slide down his throat; all the while taking deep breaths to bring himself back from the reality of his dream.

            After finishing the glass and pouring another, he felt something of himself again. The dream, though still fresh, was receding quickly to the far reaches of his mind. It would return, as it had off and on for months now; but at the moment, peace was replacing fear.

            “Sweetheart.”

            He heard the whispered endearment at the same instant that a warm, soft hand touched the center of his bare back. He gazed over his shoulder for a moment, just making out the slow-moving form of his husband, before turning back to stare down at his own feet. He couldn’t help the small smile that graced his face, nor the surge of emotion that came with it.

            “I’m all right.” It was the truth and a lie. He was physically fine, and his husband’s presence was more than comforting, but his heart still beat a bit too hard and his thoughts were a tad too morbid.

            The bed dipped minutely as he both felt his husband kneel behind him and the one warm hand was joined by its mate; both his love’s hands coming up to massage his shoulders gently, but firmly—just how his love knew he liked and needed it.

            “Did you have a bad dream?”

            Guilt flashed through him; he hadn’t told his husband of his recurring dreams. Maybe it was time.

            “Yes.” He took a deep, calming breath. “I’ve been having them for months, actually.”

            The hands on his shoulders still.

            “Why didn’t you tell me before?” His husband’s voice simultaneously angry for the truth being omitted, and hurt for not being allowed to offer comfort; he could only smile at that; it was so typical of Will.

            “I didn’t want to bother you.” That was the truth in a nutshell. Before tonight, he had been able to quietly leave and come back without his husband knowing, or used the excuse of having to use the john.

            “I don’t think you need to hear my response to that statement.” Again, typical; in his husband’s mind, the real bother was Tom’s continuous attempts at protection, as if Will were a delicate flower. Just as typical, that was exactly how Tom viewed Will, something he had to protect at all costs.

            They were quiet for a few minutes; one breathing deep, while the other continued to rub gentle circles over the muscled shoulders of the one he loved.

            “Do you want to talk about it?” So soft, so concerned, so much love in a simple question; it almost made him weep at how lucky he was to have the love of this man.

            “There was a great battle,” he took another breath before moving on. “A clash of armies, the flash of swords and the ringing of shields and armor; I can almost hear it, still.” It had been so real. “I was alone though, above it all on a frozen cliff, and there was a great … being, a beast almost; white and pale, albino-like but with cold, blue eyes like ice.”

            He felt his husband release a tiny shiver from the description.

            “We were battling hard, each unwilling to give up. Finally, I defeated him, but not before he wounded me.” Once again, he clutched at his left chest for the mortal wound that wasn’t there. “And I could do nothing but lie upon the icy ground and wait for death.”

            “Oh, God.” The soft hands on his shoulders stop and his husband wraps both arms around him and kisses the back his head before pulling them together. “That was no dream; it was a horrid nightmare.”

            No, not completely.

            He turned now; his husband needed him. He gathered the smaller man and cupped his face, gently rubbing his fingers over smooth, silken cheeks and warm, full lips. So beautiful.

            “Not a nightmare,” he had to be honest, “because you were there. As the world faded, you knelt close beside me, comforted me. It was your face I saw as I drew my last breaths; how could that not be anything but the most wondrous thing to behold.”

            But his husband clearly disagreed, if his quivering chin was any indication. “As I said, a nightmare; because it would only mean that I would have to live on without you.”

            Oh, how his husband’s tears tore at his heart; he hated to see him cry. He could not help but kiss the now tear stained cheeks and press tender kisses to those lips he loved so much. He was the one that made his love cry, so it only right he tries to take the tears away.

            “It was only a dream, just a dream. It’s over and it wasn’t real.” It was true and his own words helped him as much as they were meant to help his husband. “And we’re both here, safe and sound, together.”

            His love nods in agreement and then sighs out a little laugh. “I’m a horrible husband.”

            "You’re not.” His love was the light of his life, the one his heartbeat for, the one he lived for.

            “You have the nightmare, and yet I’m the one that needs comfort; pathetic.”

            “No, my love. You are anything, but.” Because while the dream was only a dream, it was also a bit of the truth; he would die for his husband if it meant his protection. A thousand times over, if need be.

            “Come back to bed.” His husband tugged gently and he didn’t resist; in moments they were tucked together, like puzzle pieces.

            In no time, the house was still and the only sound was the distant tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the downstairs parlor.   It was in that moment, in the warmth of their bed, as the night deepened and sleep slowly rose up to claim them both, that their deep subconscious minds made connections that were unknown in the waking world and they both whispered things that only the other could hear but that neither would remember.

            “I love you, Thorin.”

            “As I do you, Bilbo.”

            “Always.”

            “And forever.”

 

 

 


End file.
